


Catalina Returns

by Mercia12591



Series: Tales from the Ancestral Tudor Court [4]
Category: The Spanish Princess (TV), The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Christmas at the Ancestral Tudor Court, F/M, Head-Canon, Pure fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercia12591/pseuds/Mercia12591
Summary: A tired and drained Kathryn of Aragon returns to the Ancestral Realms and finds a welcome she didn’t anticipate.
Relationships: Catherine of Aragon/Henry VIII of England
Series: Tales from the Ancestral Tudor Court [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007481
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Catalina Returns

**Ancestral Realms – December 16, 1800**

**K** **athryn** of Aragon was tired, she was beyond tired, her strength was gone and as purgatory faded around her, she felt herself fading too. She did not mind that much. She was ready for some peace. _It will feel good to fade away,_ she thought, _I only want to see Mary one more time, just once…_

Thoughts of her daughter kept her holding on as a heartbeat away Elizabeth Woodville and her daughter rushed down the winding hallways of White Hall Palace. Minutes later the two women burst through the doors where Henry VIII was meeting with his council. The king looked up as they entered. 

“Kathryn.” It was all Elizabeth of York said and all she needed to say. Her son was up, out of his chair, and dismissing his council in an instant. “Is she…is she alright?” Henry VIII asked as he followed his mother and grandmother down the hallway.

It was Elizabeth Woodville who answered. “It doesn’t look good right now.”

The king swore under his breath and picked up his pace. “Do we know where she is at the moment?”

“Not sure,” Elizabeth of York admitted. “Normally when one gets out of Purgatory, the general rule is to think of ‘home’, but I’m not sure Kathryn even knows where home is right now…”

As they walked Jacquetta came rushing to meet them with the news that Kathryn wasn’t in the Spanish Ancestral Realms or any of the British haunts which had already been searched. “No one has any idea where she is at present, your Majesty.”

Henry tried not to wince as he heard the note of panic in his great grandmother’s voice. Jacquetta Rivers never panicked…unless there was something to panic about.

 _Please, God,_ Henry prayed, throwing himself on mercy which he knew he in no way deserved, _please keep her save until we can get to her._

They had reached the carriages and Jaquetta stuffed several vials of energy into her great grandson’s hands. “You might need these once you find her and do hurry…time is of the essence!”

Henry nodded, his mind racing with where to go first when his sister Mary Rose appeared with her namesake running alongside her. Both insisted on coming along and though Henry was loathed to have his daughter see her mother in what might be a very weakened and deteriorated condition, the frantic king relented when his daughter insisted she knew where they could find her mommy.

“Kimbolton castle,” the little girl said as soon as the carriage sped away.

“Kimbolton?” The king asked, looking at his sister. “Why would she go there of all places?”

It was his daughter who answered once more. “It’s where you left her and where she waited for you…and you never came…”

Henry felt the full impact of those softly spoken words. He had so much to atone for and he found himself wondering if atonement was even possible after all he’d done. He had no right to expect any mercy from the queen who gave him so much and received so little in return…and yet he had no choice but to try.

Henry had long since realized that without his queen, his true queen, eternity was not worth having. He knew that if he had to spend forever making it up to Kathryn and his daughter he would do so, without complaint.

His gaze landed on the little girl seated opposite him. “We will find your mother, Mary, and once we do, we’ll make sure she’ll never be lonely again,” he told her managing a gentle, reassuring smile.

“Promise?” Mary asked and the quiver in her small voice almost broke his heart.

“I promise,” he replied, holding out his arms to his daughter. “In the meantime, your pappa could use a hug.”

The girl complied immediately, leaping into her father’s arms, and hanging on as if her very existence depended upon it. Henry returned the hug with everything in him, praying as he did so that they’d be in time.

Mary Rose Tudor, formerly Queen of France, watched the tender display with tears in her dark eyes. _We are coming Kathryn, my dearest sister. Please hold on just a little while longer…for all our sakes._

***

Kathryn of Aragon was not overly surprised to find herself in the familiar surroundings of Kimbolton castle. It had been her final prison on earth, the place where she experienced the darkest nights of her soul, but it was also a place of peace and acceptance. It was a fitting place from which to finally dissolve into the Light. Strange, but now that her final annihilation was upon her, she felt no fear or sadness, merely an odd sense of relief that it was finally, finally over.

Her gaze lighted on the writing desk in one corner of the vast, otherwise empty chamber. It had parchment, ink, and quill at the ready, all she needed to pen a final letter if her remaining strength would even allow her as much.

Sitting herself down at the beautifully carved oak desk, Kathryn found it a gigantic effort merely to hold the quill. Summoning what was left of her once legendary iron will, Kathryn of Aragon penned her final letter and then the quill slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor, followed shortly by the former Queen of England.

 _Not a Queen,_ she reminded herself as she slid from her seat, _you were never a queen, but you are the daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand, the two most powerful monarchs the world has ever seen…that title no one can take from you…_

As she fell Kathryn imagined she heard the sound of hurried, urgent footsteps coming down the hallway, followed closely by a familiar little voice calling, ‘Mommy!’

It was a nice dream to go out with, Kathryn thought as she welcomed the peace which enveloped her like a mother’s embrace. “It is…done.” She whispered, unaware of the three people who entered the chamber at that moment.

She didn’t hear he daughter screaming for her, nor was she aware of the king kneeling beside her rapidly fading form as her former sister-in-law read the letter she left and yelled frantically at Henry to ‘do something, quickly!’

Kathryn was dead to her surroundings, unaware of the king lifting her shimmering, opaque form into his lap, or of the vials of energy he forced down her throat with his sister’s help as their daughter looked on with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Even when her energy had become less opaque and solid enough for her to be transferred to the waiting carriage, swiftly bringing her and her companions to White Hall Palace where three generations of the Woodville line was waiting to revive her, Kathryn of Aragon remained unaware, floating in a velvety, strangely comforting darkness, waiting for a final annihilation that would not come this night, nor for many, many eternities hence…

***

“She’s weak, but beyond danger,” Jaquetta Rivers informed her great, great-grandson several hours later, watching with sympathy as he crumpled into a chair with relief.

“The Saints be praised,” he murmured. Looking up at the stately matriarch of the House of Woodville he whispered hoarsely: “I am in your debt…”

Jacquetta shook her head. “You have a second chance, Henry. A chance paid dearly for. Use it well, child.”

It was only after Jacquetta had left the room that Henry allowed the relief to properly swamp him and he wept with the strength of his feelings. Kathryn was home and safe and he finally had a chance to make it up to her. Perhaps, if the Fates were exceptionally kind he’d even have the chance to win his Queen back in every sense of the word, but he was smart enough to know that might be a very long way off yet.

For now, he needed to concentrate on getting Kathryn back to full strength and winning back her trust and friendship. Her needs and her comfort were paramount now, if she needed a friend and only a friend, he’d be that…for now. They had forever, time enough to rebuild what he so carelessly broke, and rebuild it he would, even if it took the rest of eternity…

Henry’s thoughts were interrupted a few minutes later as Maggie Pole burst through the door to inform him that Princess Mary was not in the nursery, nor in any of her known favorite haunts. Henry rushed after his aunt and a frantic search followed before it dawned on Henry where his daughter might be.

Sure enough, they found the little princess, not long after, asleep beside her mother, one tiny hand grasping Kathryn’s larger one. “Poor dear,” Maggie Pole sighed, and Henry noticed the tears glistening in his aunt’s eyes. “They missed one another so much.” 

“I know, but it’s over now and they will never be separated again, nothing and no one will come against either of them ever again,” the king replied and there was a softness in his voice which Maggie hadn’t heard in so very long, he was that bright prince again, the dazzling prince he’d been before Wolsey’s influence warped him before Anne Boleyn bewitched him. The rose of York and Tudor combined was blooming again, and it did Maggie good to see it.

Perhaps, she thought, there was hope for the future after all. Feeling a little like an interloper, Maggie left the chamber, giving the small family time alone.

Hearing the chamber door close behind his aunt, Henry gave in to his impulse and gently traced Kathryn’s face with his fingers. She looked so peaceful and innocent in sleep and he could not help but wonder how she’d react once she awoke to find herself still firmly imbedded in the Ancestral Realms.

The final letter she’d left behind at Kimbolton castle had made it pretty clear that Kathryn had thought herself ready to move on, as she may well have done if they had arrived just a few moments later. That thought sends a shudder through to the very core of his being and Henry knew he could never have let her go. He simply needed her too much, these realms needed her.

His gaze moved to their daughter, who was nestled tightly to her mother’s side. They made such a pretty sight and Henry felt his being swell with gratitude at the knowledge that they were all here together. He silently prayed that he’d have the second chance he so longed for. This chance, he knew would not be immediately forthcoming, but he was willing to wait…forever if he had to.

***

Kathryn of Aragon awoke slowly and was confused at everything she was feeling, the soft bed beneath her, the tiny warm body beside her. _Mary,_ she thought with a spark of joy, _but surely that is not possible?_

She opened her eyes and what she saw, along with the accompanying sensations, quickly convinced her that she had not gone into the light as she had thought to do. Someone must have gotten to her, but who?

As Kathryn pondered the conundrum, she became aware of how thirsty she was. It was as she moved to try and find a way to quench her thirst, that little Mary woke up and with a squeal of joy, threw her arms about her mother. 

Hearing his daughter’s cry, Henry rushed into the vast bedchamber to find Kathryn awake and sitting up, clutching Mary to her chest. Henry almost exploded with joy at the sight.

“Kathryn, your awake, finally!”

She looked up at him and Henry could almost see the questions racing about her mind. She voiced none of them, instead, she asked for water and Henry found himself rushing to get it for her. Pouring clear spring water into a golden goblet and adding two vials of energy to it, he brought it to her bedside and helped her to take a few sips.

“Why am I here?” Kathryn finally asked when she’d quenched her thirst. Her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper and her mind was reeling with the fact that Henry was seeing to her needs like a servant.

“Your daughter is here, your family is here,” the ‘I am here’, remained unsaid. “Where else would you be, Kate?”

There was a tenderness in his voice and even in his gaze and the way he said her name, in that cadence, which she hadn’t heard in centuries sends shivers down her spine. Kathryn suppressed those sensations ruthlessly. She glanced at her beaming daughter and then back at Henry. “I had thought to be in the Light by now,” she admitted in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” Henry said with an unsettling gentleness. “I simply could not let that happen, not only for our daughter’s sake but for mine as well.”

Kathryn did not believe that last part for a second. She could believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he’d saved her for their daughter’s sake, but Kathryn did not for a moment believe that he would save her for his sake.

She knew well enough that Henry cared very little for her. Purgatory had cured her of any illusions on the matter of her former ‘husband’s’ feelings for her. Perhaps he had been fond of her once, but he never shared the passion she felt for him. Kathryn had made her peace with this.

“What date is it?” She finally asked and it was Mary who answered excitedly. “It's 24 December 1800. You came back just in time for the twelve days of Christmas!”

Despite the tiredness, Kathryn felt at that moment, she could not help but be affected by her daughter’s obvious excitement. She chuckled as she hugged a little girl.

“Pappa was right this is going to be the best Yuletide ever!”

Unexpectedly, Kathryn found herself sharing a smile with Henry as the little girl started chatting excitedly. “I’ll go a fetch Jacquetta,” Henry said. “She will want to know you are awake. You were out for eight days; we were starting to worry…”

Not quite knowing how to answer Kathryn watched as Henry left the chamber. Alone with her daughter, Kathryn turned all her attention on the little girl now nestled comfortably on her mother’s lap. Mary chatted non-stop earning a smile from her mother. Kathryn found she was feeling stronger by the minute. 

Jacquetta and Henry returned to the bedchamber to find mother and daughter chatting and laughing. Jacquetta rushed into the room, a huge smile on her face. “You’re Grace,” she said, “It’s so good to see you up and awake.”

Kathryn returned the smile. “It is good to see you too, Lady Rivers, and I suspect I have you to thank, at least in part, for how good I am feeling right now, so thank you.”

The older lady inclined her head in acknowledgment. “I am your Majesty’s humble servant.”

***

Kathryn had privately planned to return to Kimbolton Castle as soon as she was able, which would have been the very next day after she woke up. Her strength returned rapidly, but it soon became clear that little Mary had planned to spend Yule with her father and that she wanted her mother there too.

She was loathed to deny her daughter anything, but she was also conscious of overstaying her welcome, Yule was a time for family, and she doubted Henry considered her as such. Kathryn finally gathered her courage and brought the issue up to Henry. His reaction caught her off guard.

“Of course, you are staying for Yule, until after Twelfth Night, I hope.”

“I don’t want to intrude, your Majesty…”

“Kate, you are family, it is no intrusion,” Henry’s voice was gentler than Kathryn had heard it in years, and he called her ‘Kate’ he hadn’t done so since the earliest years of their marriage. She would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her.

He came out from behind the gigantic, gilded desk he had been sitting at when she entered. Closing the distance between them he reached for her hand, making sure she had enough time to pull away if she wanted to, she didn’t and that spark of hope which had ignited since her return shimmered and glowed within his chest. “Mary has been so looking forward to this holiday and her reunion with you. I’ll do whatever I have to, to make you more comfortable…”

“There’s no need, your Majesty,” Kathryn replied, finally pulling away her hand. “I am very comfortable.”

“So, you’ll stay until after Twelfth Night?” Henry asked and he was aware of his hopeful tone as well as the pleading note it carried. He could not bring himself to care. He’d get on his knees before her if he had to.

“I’ll stay until the day after Twelfth Night,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze head-on.

Henry took comfort in the spark he saw smoldering in those beautiful blue eyes of hers. Purgatory had not broken her spirit and neither had he. He found himself thankful beyond imagining.

After her conversation with the king, Kathryn went in search of Mary and together they threw themselves into preparing for the coming festivities. Kathryn felt almost back to full strength and the time spent with her daughter only increased the sense of well-being.

On the first night of Christmas Kathryn found herself being dressed in a gorgeous dress of silver silk and plush velvet after a luxurious soak in possibly the most beautiful bathtub she had ever seen. It felt strange, after Purgatory, to be immersed in so much luxury and opulence once more. Kathryn had never thought to experience it again.

Beside her, little Mary was being helped into a dress which closely resembled her mother’s in both style and color. The little girl’s excitement was both palpable and contagious. Once they were ready Kathryn took her daughter’s hand and led her down familiar hallways to the great hall where that evening’s feast was to be held. She was somewhat surprised to find Henry waiting for them outside the great hall, he was dressed to match her and Mary…or should she assume they had been dressed to match him? Kathryn found the thought more than a little disconcerting, but she did not have long to think on the matter as Henry had snatched Mary up and planted a kiss on his daughter’s temple, before holding his daughter to his heart. Kathryn watched as Mary basked in her father’s attention, like a flower lifting its head to take in the sun.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl, aren’t you the most beautiful girl in the world?”

“I don’t know,” Mary said shyly.

“Yes, you are, you are the most beautiful girl in all the world. How do you feel?”

“Well,” Mary answered clinging to her father, and the genuine love Kathryn saw shining from Henry’s eyes as he gazed upon their child went a long way towards soothing the wounds she still carried.

So deep in thought was Kathryn that she didn’t realize that Henry had turned his attention on her. “Look at your Mama, Mary,” Henry said, still holding their daughter, “isn’t she the most beautiful queen you ever saw?”

Kathryn bristled at his comment and if they were alone she would have corrected him with a reminder that she was not his queen and never truly had been, but she saw Mary looking at her with adoration and realized Henry’s true game. This Yuletide was for their daughter, to heal some of her wounds and if this is how they had to accomplish that then so be it. She could do this for Mary. She curtsied and favored them both with a smile.

Henry watched Kathryn closely and saw her reaction to his comment. He was pained by the knowledge that it was his foolish actions that caused her aversion to being called by her true title. He had so much to make up for, but thankfully he had time on his side. Gently setting his daughter down he kept hold of Mary’s hand while holding his other arm out for Kathryn to take.

His Princess Summertime hesitated only a moment before falling into step beside him and their daughter. They entered the Great Hall together as a family for the first time in 300 years and the applause from the courtiers gathered there was thunderous in its approval.

Kathryn allowed herself to be led to a raised dais with three thrones standing in the center of the hall. There was a small throne flanked by two larger ones and Kathryn watched through a haze of unshed tears as Henry lifted their daughter unto the center throne, before they took their places on either side of her. The high symbolism was not lost on Kathryn and her being ached with the irony of it all. She wondered what Henry’s true queen might think of all this and instinctively she scanned the glittering crowd for Anne Boleyn, but though she noticed four of the other wives in the hall, the striking brunette who’d been the obsession of Henry’s life was nowhere to be seen. Kathryn had little time to ponder this puzzle however because Henry was speaking, presenting ‘his family’ to the exuberant courtiers.

Kathryn took a deep breath, more out of habit than actual necessity. If there was one thing Henry excelled at it was PR and he seemed to be going all out on this occasion, it was only Mary’s beaming smile and, the radiant little face that kept Kathryn on a throne where she knew she did not belong. 

She watched as Henry stood and offered his hand to their daughter, proceeding to lead Mary in a dance while pointedly leaving Kathryn to occupy his chair of state. This was no small thing and the low excited murmur which seemed to ripple through Henry’s gathered court told Kathryn the courtiers were taking notice.

Kathryn wanted to be annoyed, but the sight of Mary dancing with her father was too adorable and her annoyance evaporated almost as soon as it appeared. The dance ended and Henry returned their daughter to her tiny throne.

Then he was standing in front of her, holding out a hand to her: “May I have this dance?”

Kathryn regarded him a moment not sure how to politely refuse him in front of his entire court. In the end there was nothing for it, but to accept Henry’s ‘invitation’. The dance was heaven, and it was hell. She focussed on the steps and on keeping her equilibrium, something made harder by Henry and his very close proximity.

She hadn’t seen him in almost 300 years before waking up in his palace a few days ago. It was still hard to be near the man she had loved for years, but she sucked it up and kept dancing. _This is for Mary,_ she reminded herself. _It means nothing beyond building up our daughter. This is not about you…_

“You’re so beautiful you put the moon to shame,” he told her in a voice like liquid honey. She shivered.

“Ever the wordsmith, Harry…” She chuckled despite herself.

He fairly beamed at her.

“What?” she finally asked, somewhat bemused by Henry’s expression.

“You called me Harry,” he said, and his smile made her entire being pulse.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…” she began, but he forestalled her.

“Don’t, Kate. Please don’t take it back, I always loved it when you called me ‘Harry’.”

They continued going through the steps and then he was lifting her high into a twirl. When he set her down again, Kathryn was flustered, her cheeks flaming. She hated that he still had the power to affect her in this manner. She was almost thankful when the dance ended and the lavish banquet for the first night of Christmas commenced in earnest.

The food and drink were everything of the very finest and it took Kathryn right back to the very early years of Henry’s reign, back to their Camelot. Of course, this being the Ancestral Realms, this court was even more dazzling than the one he had preceded over. There were also people here that hadn’t been there during the first years of the reign.

So it was that on that night and the nights that followed Kathryn found four of Henry’s other wives presented to her, along with Henry’s children. Only Anne Boleyn never made an appearance. As was her way, Kathryn was courteous and kind, finding an instant connection with the 13-year old Elizabeth Tudor.

As the days of Christmas passed other familiar faces came into Kathryn’s orbit, Lina, Oviedo, Rosa, Thomas Moore, Maggie Pole, the House of Tudor and the House of York as well as other allies and acquaintances from across the Ancestral Realms of Europe. All of them welcomed Kathryn of Aragon back like the long-lost queen she was. Slowly, without Kathryn even noticing it, a ‘court’ was springing up around her.

Jaquetta Rivers, Elizabeth Woodville, and Elizabeth of York saw it though and smiled in satisfaction, sensing the time to finally undo the ill-fated Tudor Curse was finally drawing near. Henry, for his part, noticed Kathryn’s unfailing kindness towards his children as well as the four wives and he found himself left in awe of Kathryn’s grace and generosity. She truly was one in a million. Slowly as Kathryn unconsciously radiated her light, the spark of hope in Henry’s chest became a small, flickering flame.

***

News of Kathryn’s return spread like wildfire among the common people and was met with universal rejoicing. Meanwhile, at Hever Castle, the news finally reached Anne Boleyn. Her reaction flowed between surprise, annoyance, and finally anger when she learned that over the past few days, Elizabeth Tudor had not only been a regular visitor to her father’s court, but she was also often seen in Kathryn’s company.

As the days passed without any invitation to the court during the twelve days of Christmas forthcoming, Anne only got angrier. “For pity’s sake,” she complained one afternoon to one of her three ladies, “even my cousin Catherine Howard is at court!”

The lady-in-waiting kept her silence, smiling on the inside. It felt good to see her arrogant, mean spirited mistress knocked down a peg or three. Lucinda Bath did not mention to her irate mistress her own invitation to court on Twelfth Night. Lucinda secretly hoped to impress Queen Kathryn enough to find a way out of her service to her cruel employer. She’d have to thank Princess Elizabeth Tudor for arranging the most coveted invitation.

***

As the first day of the New Year and thus the sixth day of Christmas drew near, Kathryn set her thoughts on a suitable gift for the king. Her energy had been restored sufficiently and she had a small store of reserves, enough to conjure a beautiful golden bow with silver arrows.

As for Princess Mary, she wanted to make her daddy a shirt and Kathryn readily helped her daughter with the project. There was a lot of chatter and laughter as they worked, with the four wives and various women from the House of Tudor joining them at times. White Hall palace now rang with the laughter of children and women. A warm glow spread through the palace uplifting everyone it touched. The atmosphere became lighter and contentment settled over the palace as the courtiers began to whisper that Kathryn of Aragon’s return were bringing about a new dawn. 

Little Mary finished her daddy’s shirt on the afternoon of the sixth day of Christmas, just in time to present it to him at that evening’s banquet. “This is gorgeous, Mary!” Kathryn praised her daughter.

Elizabeth of York and Mary Rose Tudor, Queen of France, entered the chamber at that moment and they too praised the young princess’ handiwork. The little girl blushed but took the praise with grace.

A short time later at the banquet, Mary presented her father with the gift and the genuine pride in Henry’s gaze was unmistakable. In front of the entire court gathered in the great hall, Henry picked up his daughter and twirled her around to the great joy of the courtiers. Over the course of the evening, Henry lavished attention on all his children and most especially on Kathryn of Aragon herself. He danced with no one but Kathryn and his daughters and once again the courtiers took notice. 

A short time later the courtiers got another sign of which way the wind was blowing. It happened as Henry and his family gathered to present Kathryn of Aragon with three more castles in addition to Kimbolton Castle. Kathryn couldn’t quite hide her surprise as the massive gift of Leeds Castle, Greenwich Castle, and Buckden Castle were presented to her by Margret Buafort, acting on this occasion as the spokesperson for the entire House of Tudor.

The bequest was made all the more significant as each castle with it’s accompanying lands and titles came with copious amounts of energy. In the Ancestral Realms, energy equaled power and wealth. With the three castles, Kathryn was immediately restored to full strength and beyond.

“I don’t know what to say to this…I wasn’t expecting this,” Kathryn said when she finally found her voice. The energy pulsing through her in those moments was overpowering and dizzying in its sheer power.

“We hope you will accept this small olive branch,” Henry told her. “We cannot change the past, but it is our sincere hope that you’d join us in looking to the future.”

Kathryn knew it was foolish, but she could not help being affected by the sincerity in Henry’s voice. She could only nod, not trusting her voice to speak at that moment and all around them applause erupted.

*** 

Later Kathryn found herself on one of the palace’s balcony’s looking out across the glorious otherworldly night as a blanket of snow turned the landscape a glittering silver-white. The jovial sounds of the feast continuing in the Great Hall drifted to her on the breeze. Kathryn smiled to herself, Henry had always loved Yule, and apparently, that hadn’t changed. She recalled how, during the first Yule of Henry’s reign, he spent 7000 pounds on Christmas Festivities alone.

Kathryn had indulged him in the excess, drunk with happiness and so in love with her ‘husband’ she thought her heart would burst with the intensity of the emotions…

So much water had flown under the bridge since then, so much had irrevocably changed and yet…in these moments she felt like she was right back to the beginning. Kathryn was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize Elizabeth Woodville had joined her until the other women spoke.

"Your absence in the great hall is conspicuous, highness…"

Kathryn turned, gracing the other woman with a smile. I’ll be right there, she replied as Elizabeth turned to leave. Something occurred to Kathryn, something which had bothered her since her return. “Your majesty,” she began, stopping the other woman’s retreat, “I wanted to ask, where is Henry’s queen?”

Elizabeth Woodville looked at her in momentary confusion. “Whatever do you mean Kathryn?”

“Where is Henry’s queen?” Kathryn asked again. “Where is Anne Boleyn?”

Kathryn watched as understanding dawned on the other woman’s beautiful face. “Anne Boleyn does not come to court often,” Elizabeth replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “As far as I know the only link between them now is Elizabeth Tudor.”

“Anne and Henry are not married?”

“No, your Grace, they are not. The High Council considers you and Henry as still married.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Indeed, I am, your Grace,” Elizabeth replied, watching her words sink in. It was clearly not what Kathryn of Aragon had been expecting to hear.

Kathryn took the news like a punch in the gut. _Poor Harry,_ she thought dismayed, _after all these centuries, still shackled to a woman you cared for but never truly loved. Once before I stood in the way of true love’s course, but not again my Harry. I will get you the freedom you deserve if it takes forever…it will be my final gift to you…_

And thus, Kathryn returned to the great hall unaware that her newly discovered ambition was in complete opposition to Henry’s and that she had just entered a battle she had no hope of winning. 


End file.
